Monday, April 11, 2011

Beauty Mark


They named you from Great Grandma

A children's book,

Something pretty sounding


We used to count freckles on our arms,

moles,

Any dark patches of skin from birth,

We called them beautiful


You,

Always won this game

with

A speckled nose,

Flecked arms


I feel blank next to you

even with,

A spot on cheek,

gross splotch on palm of hand


Must never forget:

I will always be less marked,

Scarred,

Than the eldest


Thank you for this






Definition


Of this feeling I have,

I will copy down later

in the composition book found under my bed

Right now, unavailable, due to my unwillingness to leave this place


I know now I would recognize you anywhere,

Your deliberate footsteps

Your sleeping breath


I would know you anywhere,

I told you at the concert,

All we could hear was one another's grins,

I told you this

Face turned


And then you asked me to swing dance

And I think I can remember every time you've touched my waist,

And all the times I think you thought I was joking when I said:

I wanna know you when I'm grown


I felt it when you tromped into this room,

I heard your crooked smile,

Your wrinkled nose,

Your friendly salute


You fell asleep, book on chest,

and I am trying not to look

and instead I am dreaming of your having heard me at the concert

and my being allowed to wake you up



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